


After Hours

by notreaaallythatmindfularentI



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notreaaallythatmindfularentI/pseuds/notreaaallythatmindfularentI
Summary: Ryan is pleasantly buzzed, incredibly elated, and he really really want to fuck with someone right now.What can he say? He’s in the mood for a little bit of trolling.





	After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> So... I finally finished this overnight. YAY!
> 
> Also, big thanks to MellowMelon for proofreading this work! You're awesome! :D

Ryan is pleasantly buzzed, incredibly elated, and he really _really_ want to fuck with someone right now.

What can he say? He’s in the mood for a little bit of trolling.

He fought to stay steady to his feet, snickering to himself as he made his way to the silver pickup truck he spotted resting just opposite of the bar. He was pretty sure there is a person inside.  Maybe. He’ll go check it out.

He’s halfway there when a car drove past him, in it was his friends cheering and shouting at him with the music all blaring in the background. He watched them drove away in annoyance. _Bastards, now I have to fucking walk all the way home. Great._

Oh well, he’ll go to a hotel. He has the money, anyways. He flipped to the general direction of his friends and continued on to his mission.

He’s racking his brain for topics. He didn’t come up with any when he’s finally standing outside of the driver’s door so he just shrugged out forming plans and skips on knocking the tinted window of the car. He smiled and waved.

The window rolled down, revealing a rather handsome man with a badass beard. He's wearing shades and it’s not as if it’s weird to wear shades at night. People do that. It’s a trend.

“Sup, homie.” He slurred.

The man peered at him under the shades before removing it completely. “Sounds like you don’t use that greeting often.”

“Ofcourse not! I use that shit all the time.” Ryan grinned and leaned forward to the open window of the car, resting against crossed arms. “Hey, listen, you got a ghost beside you.” He points at the shotgun seat.

The man raised an eyebrow at him and Ryan insistently points out to the shotgun seat.

The man sighed. Ryan burst into laughter even before the man could flip his head to the side. _No, goddangit! My joke is ruined!_

Ryan kept laughing anyway, throwing his head back and clutching his stomach. He almost banged his head to the side but it's cool. He’s happy, he could keep laughing all evening.

When he calmed down, he focused his blurry sight to the man looking at him in amusement. “Well? I didn’t see any ghost, brat.”

“I’m not a _brat_ .” Sure, okay, he’s sixteen. Isn’t even allowed to drink alcohol, but he _did_ drink alcohol so he’s way past that. “What? Can you see ghosts, beardie?”

“I actually can.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

The man gestured to the building at the far left. It looks appropriately dilapidated and abandoned.

Ryan snorted. “What? Don’t tell me there’s a girl in white there?”

“An _old lady_ in white.” The man grunted, before adjusting his side mirror, focusing on it. He paused. “When I think about it, she's closer than before, isn’t she?”

Ryan groaned. “Dude. Seriously. That’s a bad acting. You’re totally making this up.”

The man lingered to the side mirror, looking at it intensely before he relaxed in his seat, looking thoughtfully at Ryan next.

_Well, uh, okay...?_

Ryan suddenly felt queasy. It’s from the alcohol. Yeah, from the alcohol. _Dammit, I shouldn’t have drunk so much._

He glanced at the building in the corner of his eyes, wary. He doubts there’s really a ghost in there. He grimaced, still. _A ghost._ Fuck, why did he do this again?

He glanced back to the man, now smirking at him. Ryan glared at him.

The man’s smirk fell and he quirked his head to the side, as if listening. Ryan watched in confusion as the man faced him, expression unreadable, and beckoned him forward. “Listen.”

 _Listen to what?_ He wanted to ask but Ryan found himself leaning forward, head cocked to the side, hoping to hear what he was supposed to hear. He waited, hearing only the gush of the wind.

But in a moment, Ryan was sure he heard something else, something other than the wind.

_Please._

Ryan’s eyes went wide, chill running down his spine.

_Help.. Help me!_

Someone screamed, so Ryan _also_ screamed. He found himself sitting on the ground, cradling his ear, scared to death, looking up to the man who’s chuckling at him.

Ryan scrambled to stand back up, preferably to smack this dude upside the head. “Why, fu-”

“Watch how you talk, boy.”  The man said, studying him with amusement. “You don’t look like you should be getting smashed yet.”

“It’s none of your business, fucker.” He breathes out, grumbling his embarrassment away as he stood up, glaring at the man.

“Oh it is, it is.”  The man peered at his dashboard. “I am a cop, you know.”

He grinned at him. “And you’re _way_ past curfew.”

 

“You’re going too far!” Ryan insisted the for the hundredth time as he furiously sat at the shotgun seat of the man’s truck. He was forcibly strapped there by this _stinking cop_. Curfew? Curfews don’t exist! What is wrong with this guy?

The man raised an eyebrow at him as he’s starting the truck. “I’m not arresting you, brother. I’m just going to drag you to your house and maybe have some intimate talk with your parents, is all.”

_Oh, fucking great._

“Why would you that?” Ryan said, exasperated. “I drink. What’s the big fucking deal? Everyone’s doing it!”

“Everyone doing it doesn’t mean it should be done.” The man grunted. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Wow. What wisdom.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear that from a bearded old man with a pudge.”

“Just so you know,” The man gestured at himself. “I don’t drink.” Then, patted his belly. “And I don’t have a pudge. Now, name and address please.”

Ryan glared. “Ryan. My house’s in the next town over.” _Probably. He_ _doesn’t even know where the hell is he._ “Look, just let me off.”

The man looked at him questioningly. “How did you end up here?”

“ _None_ of your business.” Ryan gritted his teeth. “Let me go.”

“I’m sure you know by now that’s not gonna happen.” The man smiled at him, backs the car up and started driving. “Name’s Luke. Let’s try to get along, shall we?”

Ryan slumped to his seat and sweared to grumble throughout the ride.

 

Ryan realized he really didn’t have any idea where he is. The only thing he can make out the window he squints through is the figure of crowded trees that they pass through. The only thing that lights the road is the dim headlights of the truck. Him and his friends must have really travelled far in a drunken haze.

 _And his friends decided to leave him in here. It’s_ _their fucking fault he’s stuck with this annoying cop._

Right now, he can feel his head pounding a little. Just great. This is gonna turn into a nasty headache in the morning.

He grumbled.

“Feeling sick?” The man asked, eyes on the road.

Ryan stayed stubbornly silent.

“I have plastic cups…?”

Ryan groaned and resisted banging his head against the window. “I’m fine. Listen, let’s make a deal. What if I just get off to the nearest motel we can find, yeah? It'll save you a lot of trouble.”

“...And you think I will agree, because…?”

“Riding with strangers is supposed to be bad?”

The man raised an eyebrow at him briefly. “Oh? You know what’s bad for you now?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Fine. I give up. Whatever.”

The man chuckled and Ryan grimaced and banged his head instead to his seat.

 

For crying out loud, this cop doesn’t have decent music taste. Ryan didn’t find anything in this man’s playlist that he can stand to listen. The man even decided at one point to listen to the _news_ instead. Come on. _Fuck no_. Ryan decided to screw it and make the man turn the stereo off. He might as well make himself comfortable if he’s stuck in here.

“That reminds me, I’m surprised the club let you in.” The man said.

Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, well. Guess they’re feeling generous.”

“Is that so…” The man drawled.

“You know,” Ryan eyed the man. “What are _you_ doing hanging out outside a club?”

The man looks sheepish. “Yeah well, I was supposed to be on a stakeout up until three. But, uh, I forgot my hoodie so yeah. I made someone switch with me for a while.”

“What's the hoodie got to do with anything?”

“We’re after the serial killer.”

“The serial killer?” _Seriously?_

“He’s all over the news, you know.” The man said. “The bastard’s already killed 7 people, all of them found dead, wearing grey hoodies, no fingerprints or hair or anything. We aren’t even sure if they are killed by the same person, but well, it's obviously not a coincidence.”

The man paused.

“Well, 8 people. He killed my partner.”

The man raised an eyebrow at him. “You don't watch the news?”

“No…” Ryan trailed. _Grey_ _hoodie._

 

_“Hey, hey Ryan. HEY RYAN!” His friend smacked him at the back of his head causing Ryan to spill his beer to the couch._

_“Dude, what the fuck?” He stood up, pushing someone away from him as he glared at his friend. Thank fuck it didn’t spill on his shirt._

_“You listening to me now?” His friend slithered his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, grinning like a maniac. He dropped his beer to to the ground and reached unto his back pockets, pulled some wad of cash. “Listen, listen. Buy me a hoodie will you, a grey one. Something comfy, yeah?” He insistently thrusted the cash to Ryan._

_Ryan eyed the spilled beer at his feet before taking the money. “A hoodie? What you need it for?”_

_His friend smiled at him wild and shrugged._

_“I’m not telling you! Unless you help me, of course.”_

 

Ryan shuddered.

“You said… your partner was killed?”

The man pursed his lips. “Yeah. Found him in an alleyway. Dead. Wearing that damn hoodie.” The man sighed. “That’s why I swear I’ll find this guy. I’ll find out where he’s hiding, wherever town or place he might be.”

Ryan’s breathe froze. _There’s no way… No fucking way…_

 

_Ryan clenched his fist a little tighter, staring at the bounded man laying at the concrete, struggling. A black plastic wrapped around the man’s head, secured tightly by some string over his neck. He wears the hoodie he bought a little over a week ago. Ryan sees the way the plastic rapidly sunk in and out, the man having some difficulty breathing._

_“Who the hell is this?” Ryan demanded to his friend, who circles around the man with a wide grin._

_“Hm?” His friend answered, still happily looking at the man. “Nobody. Just someone I know.”_

_His friend crouches by then, and spoke to the man. “Hello there, you stupid cop. Missed me?”_

_The man groaned and his friend laughed._

_“Told you I’ll get you back for the other day.”_

_Ryan nervously stared at his friend as the other stood up again and looked around the mess they’re in. His friend paused and smiled before reaching out to a heavy metal bar placed haphazardly on the ground. Lifting it up and testing its heaviness._

_He shrugged._

_“This will hurt.” His friend called out before lifting the bar and striking it on the man’s head._

_Oh fuck._

_Ryan jumps in shock and watch as his friend brought down the bar again and again. He feels weak and he wants to get this over with quick. He closed his eyes to regain his bearings._

_After a while, he heard the sharp twang of the metal as it hits the concrete. He opens his eyes to see his friend fiddling with the knot on the man’s neck, trying to get it undone, muttering ‘God, I want to see that stupid beard again.’ under his breath._

_“Dude! What are you doing!” Ryan panicked and he looks around to make sure that no one had seen anything._

_His friend laughed. “Come on. I just want to see if I managed to spill his brains out.”_

_Ryan watched as his friend managed to pull the plastic off and met with the sight of a man silenced with a gag and dull, lifeless blue eyes that stared right unto Ryan’s. Blood oozing out over the crack on the side of his head over his face. The man is clearly dead._

_Ryan wanted to gag._

_“Ah?” Ryan snapped his head to his friend, looking at the man with confusion._

_“Shit.” His friend cursed, throwing the bloodied plastic away from his gloved hands._

_“We got the wrong guy.”_

 

Ryan felt queasy. He can feel his stomach tying into knots.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

_“_ Are you okay?” The man asked him, peeking at him worriedly. “Do you want to-”

“I’m fine.” Ryan said in a shaky tone. Looking away from the cop. For a moment, he sees the man’s face -Luke’s- lying in the concrete in place of blue eyes and brownish hair, and thinks…

_Hey, that’s how it was supposed to be._

“I’m fine.” He repeated, in a more steady tone. He leans back in his seat and takes a deep breathe.

“Just get me home… please.” He breathes out.

The man nodded with a frown and continues driving to the night.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think xD
> 
> Thank you very much!


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